Dragonball X: Act 1: Becoming
by Xenotra
Summary: (Ph. 1)A new Dragon rules, but the ancient relics to summon it have been shadowed by society, for fear of the human lust their abilities would start if only they knew. Darker, thicker, and following a slightly different timeline after DBZ. R&R please.
1. (1)Vortex

Dragonball X 

First Phase 

Act 1 

Becoming 

Chapter 1 

Jim punched in the keys to unlock the door, as he did so he could hear firing behind him. He guessed Vor' was having quite a time with his new weapon. 

"VVVVVScHHHHHHH!" 

The door opened as Jim yelled down the corridor, "C-mon! It's time, let's get off this freakin' rock!" 

"Let's." said Vor' as he ran through door without hesitation. 

Inside was a machine, declared ancient by some. It stood in the center of a room about the size of two football fields in a dome shape. They both gazed for a moment in awe before setting to work preparing it. 

Outside, an intergalactic war was happening, guns exhausted, close combat the weapon of choice. Five renegades fought not in the hope of victory, just in buying enough time. 

One of the few remaining black men left in the war, Neal Brown sat in the corridor of a downed Hovercraft, praying that success and god shall be with them. Almost as if by cue, he armed his Flamesword and rushed outside. 

Kane wiped his brow and quickly replaced his cowl as a group of tourists walked past, murmuring when they saw him. They always wonder why we wear our masks... 

He heard footsteps behind him, and before his assailant could catch his breath, he was against the wall with a hand around his throat. This boy hadn't thought about how Enforcers react when they're attacked; they have much faster reflexes than the average human. 

This boy was maybe ranging at about 16-17 years old, wearing a trench coat over his casual clothing. His left hand was bare, but his right held tightly to a large wooden rod. "Are you planning to hit me with that?" asked Kane to the boy. 

"Are you going to watch as Direct pushes us around." The boy answered defiantly. 

"Why attack me then, I'm an Enforcer!" he was trying to be quiet so the tourists wouldn't--- 

Flash! Click! Whirrrrrr! 

Both Kane and the boy glared toward the cameraman and the group he was with. They got the idea and quickly scurried off. 

They resumed their discussion. "If you're an Enforcer, start enforcing!" His voice was high above a whisper now; "You speak of Factions and order! You speak of peace and justice! I see none of this, not here, not now. You may say you're an Enforcer or Wing or Exodus, but yer' all Direct!" 

With that, the boy broke free and ran South toward the outskirt slums. Kane didn't bother to follow; he was too out of place by the boy's words to realize where he was going... 

* * * * * * * * * * 

The preparations were complete. The machine read: 2245, Unknown date, Unknown time. They didn't have time to put anything else in the slots; the doors were beginning to give way. 

Vor' began to turn each knob and throw switch after switch, as Jim viewed the statistics. The two panels began to waver and spark as power filled the machine. 

Neal was on the guard in an instant and, thinking it didn't matter anyway, left him unconscious and took his Hovercycle. While revving the engine, he caught a glimpse of another renegade, as he let loose an energy ball. The ball hit a weakened wall, the wall collapsed. Inside there stood about one-hundred expectant guards, all with their barrels aimed outward. Neal let a cry escape him that could be heard all over the battlefield, "For Xenotra!!" He then barreled screaming into the rainbow fire and smoking barrels. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Kane stumbled into the bar and collapsed on the floor. He quickly stood up, as not to cause any worry. No one noticed anyway. He gathered his thoughts and took a seat at the counter. As he looked through the holographic menu the other customers made sure they had at least two seats in-between Kane and them. "Nothing today, Harvey. I may be your best customer, but nothing today." 

"Dang." And Harvey the bartender went into the back room. "Whooooaaaaaaahoooooo!" Before stumbling out of it and falling into a table. 

"I'm calling the cops! That is not normal, whatever's in that room!" Harvey yelled. 

"I'll check it out." Kane was already strolling toward the door, gun armed. He peered inside. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Power flew and swirled between the two panels, creating a vortex. Both Jim and Vor' exchanged excited glances, even as the door behind them began to crack and whine. 

Gureal Stokosh was doing his best to buy enough time for Jim inside the barracks, shooting everything in sight, trying to cause the most commotion possible. He was at kaioken at its twentieth level and was still having trouble warding off Mecha and soldiers. Even with his enhanced neurokinetics, he didn't sense the laser sight of a Valkrie gattling gun finding its way to his back... 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

"What the hell is that?!" Kane exclaimed as the vortex appeared. Setting his gun to rapid fire, he readied himself for anything. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

The door burst open and guards poured in as Vor' shot down a couple, his gun on "stun". Jim gave a nod and Vor' jumped into the vortex. Jim immediately followed after he shot the control panel and the machine readied for self-destruct. 

They flew through time and space in less than a second, but it seemed like days, and, technically, it was. They saw themselves as young ones, even then fighting against Control... 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Two bodies flew through the portal and smashed through the wall, alarming just about everyone, sending them into tables and chairs. 

After everyone cleared out, the two men got up, brushed themselves off, realized they weren't where they were supposed to be, and congratulated each other on a job well done... 

"Who the hell are you?" It was Kane, still staring through the broken wall. 


	2. (2) Trevor

Chapter 2 

Trevor 

The two men stared at Kane for a few seconds before realizing he was pointing a gun at them. One of them quickly said, ""We come in peace!" 

"If you come in peace then I suggest you drop the guns on your back and any other weapons on you, and kick them over here." He pointed at his feet. 

One of them looked distressed at this order while the other calmly unsheathed his gun from his back and laid it across the floor. He then asked, "What year is it?" 

Kane looked puzzled, what did this guy have for breakfast that he would forget the year. Then Kane thought about the vortex, how they had come through it. Had these people come through time? Kane shoved away the thought for now and answered the question, "2395." 

Now both men looked distressed. Kane dismissed this also and asked for their names. One said, "Jim." When the other didn't answer, Jim said, "and this is my accomplice, Vor." 

The scanner on Kane's belt whirred for a second, then showed a red light, indicating that the names weren't found anywhere in the directory. Kane hit the button for "world scan" and again, a red light shone. Seeing that Kane didn't believe them, the two men started to inch toward the door. 

"Now we can do this the easy wa-- Hey!" he said as the door slammed. 

No sooner had Vor' shot off the doorknob that he heard a crash behind him and shattered glass fly past his head. He whirled around to see a near seven-foot tall, black-clad Enforcer staring him down with glowing green eyes. Thanks to Vor's height, he slipped under Kane's legs and bolted in the other direction. 

"I'll pay for the damages." Kane replied at the thought of the broken window. He then sprinted after the "fugitives". However, even as Kane saw their shadows turn, as he skidded around the corner, they were nowhere to be seen. 

A huge mob had formed right at that corner, and, with all the people, he couldn't get a good look at anyone. As he looked up and over the mob, he saw it. Kane now realized where he was, on Direct Port 1, the main street of Direct events. The recent taxing and political rumors about the origin of Direct and its sudden secrecy to the whole matter created a huge uproar, creating a firestorm to just about all the citizens. He just didn't see the severity of it all, he simply dismissed it as just another rumor. He never thought it would lead to this. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Leon crumpled yet another paper into a wad and threw it in the basket on the far wall. Half the pages on his notepad were already gone, he didn't care, he was just bored out of his mind and wanted to do something. 

Suddenly, the door burst open, and his impulsive brother ran into the living room. He stopped, stared at Leon for a moment, then swiftly walked to the closet. While rummaging through it, he began talking, "There's gonna' be a rally tonight, actually, there is a rally tonight, yer' coming right?" 

"No, its stupid and you're going to get yourself hurt." 

"You treat me like a kid- 

"Because you are one." 

"..." 

"Listen," Leon began, "Direct's time will come, it's just not now, you guys are making this too big for what it really is." 

"Then what is it?" 

"Nothing." 

"Michael would've gone..." he turned, grabbed a baseball bat, and was gone. 

Leon sat silently for a moment, looking down at his notepad. He threw the notepad against the wall with all the strength he had, its pages falling everywhere like fall leaves. He reclined the chair and lay, staring at the ceiling... 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Torches were lit, bats and sticks held high, signs of hostility everywhere. Kane had the sudden urge to defend Direct, maybe because it was part of his agreed code of establishment, but the urge subsided after a few moments. As long as no one noticed him there, no harm would come to his career. 

The crowd wasn't chanting anything, just yelling obscenities and throwing stones, he even saw children in the mob doing the same. Just then, the Direct main doors opened and guards poured out. One of them had a megaphone and, even then, was yelling at the top of his lungs, "Return to your homes, you are in direct violation of-- 

"Of what, Direct scum?!" someone screamed from the crowd. 

The officer remained unfazed by the comment and decided to skip any further "violation" warnings, knowing it wouldn't do any good. He handed the megaphone to a nearby aid and gave a hand signal Kane recognized, it meant "mobilize". Just then the remaining soldiers brought the shields that had rested on their backs to their fronts. 

Uh, oh. This doesn't look good, I may have to intervene after all. Dang, and I was waiting for just another normal weekend, Kane thought. "What am I thinking, this is normal." 

Kane sensed a presence beside him, and caught a side view of another citizen. Hey, he looks like that kid. He grabbed the "kid's" arm and yanked him over so they were face to face. 

"May I help you?" the young man replied. Although there were some very similar features about him, in the light Kane could clearly see this was a much older and surprisingly calm teenager, most likely just out of college. He was wearing a cut-off trench coat and gloves, everything else Kane couldn't define even in the light, except for . 

He hesitantly loosened his grip and brought his hand away. The two men glared at each other for a moment. 

Bang! 

The shot hit nothing but air, but it brought everyone's attention to the main door staircase. An officer had fired and began to speak into the silence. His voice rang over any murmur that escaped the crowd, and he wasn't giving orders. His speech was crisp and sympathetic, quick to reassurance. 

"Now I see that all of you are angry, I see that all of you are tired. Well, frankly, so am I. As I go for a morning stroll, I hear people talk down to the Direct Grand Council. They say that we care nothing of your rights and we're too cowardly to stand in front and lead the factions. Well, if I don't care about your rights, why am I talking to you right now. Now, all through today you've been told you're in violation of some unheard purpose, hell, for all you know you could be in violation of not resting on Sunday cuz' that's our day of rest." 

That sent an uncertain chuckle and a small murmur of agreement. However, the other officers were all staring at this one, looking very worried. 

"My name is Trevor Marks, and I'm a Direct officer, it's suddenly my job to make you people miserable? I didn't see that on the establishment code." 

Kane was wondering how long they'd let him talk, or maybe they'd just demote him if he was ever done talking. He had recognized the name and he noticed the guy next to him did also. Trevor had been in the news about two years ago, something about a kid getting severely injured in a crossfire and then later dying. Rumors said things differently, but then again, they were only rumors. 

"I promise I'll get to the bottom of these rumors, if they are even rumors. I will prevail, without bloodshed." Trevor ended the speech monotone, stepped off the staircase, and motioned the other soldiers back inside. 

Whatever the commander had said before that while Kane was thinking, it calmed the crowd down immensely, most of them were already leaving. Whew, I guess it will be another semi-normal weekend. Kane calmly looked around for any other Enforcers, he didn't really need to, and they weren't very numerous. He strode back to his apartment by the Enforcer building to get some early sleep. 


	3. Rally

Chapter 3 

Rally 

The door opened silently except for a small creak from the hinges, Jeremy thought it didn't make any difference anyway, Leon would be asleep by now. 

"You're late." Well, Leon wasn't asleep. His voice was low in key but still easily heard, you could neither tell if he was angry or just plain bored sitting in his recliner, only the lamp lighting his black hair. 

"I stayed after, they were planning another rally," He paused, "and I signed up. It's not really a rally, more of a council meeting, to plan the Resistance to- 

"Resistance against what!" Now you could tell he was angry. "Against Direct? What have they done that we need to go to rag-tag war?" 

"We have to kiss their butts every day, don't you get aggravated by that or are you too busy to pry your lips away?" Jeremy shot back. 

"No one's sucking up to anybody." He answered calmly. 

"Well it sure seems like it." And he stormed upstairs. 

"Oh crap..." Leon murmured under his breath. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

"You requested to see me sir?" Kane was standing in front of his Major's desk, already knowing what he was asked there for. 

"Yes, Lieutenant, I was wondering if you had heard anything about a rally last night?" He was getting straight to the point, no introductions or welcome talk, just the facts. 

"..." 

"Don't give me any silent crap, just tell me why you didn't intervene." 

"I didn't need to sir, Trevor easily took care of it." 

"We don't know how long Trevor will still be part of Direct, there's been talk of retirement for him. Now, I know that's not the real reason, you wanted to see what Direct was going to do, then you'd think about whether to intervene or not." Just then, a red light flashed on the Major's desk. "I'm sorry, we'll have to continue this conversation another time, I have an appointment, dismissed." 

Kane decided to take a walk after that "joyful" encounter, he considered it more of a patrol. Maybe I should visit Harvey's and see if that window got replaced yet, or try and get a lead on those two renegades or whoever they were, he thought. 

The window wasn't replaced yet, but the broken glass was swept up. This time some customers even left when he arrived, and those that didn't leave made sure there was three to four seats between them and Kane. Plus, Harvey wasn't too talkative about anything whatsoever, or very happy either, probably just shaken up. 

He was about to get a little more shaken up as the door quietly opened and a group of rebels entered the bar, requesting a hiding place and asking if there were any cops in the building. Harvey shot a quick glance toward Kane, whom was slumped over in his chair sighing, hardly noticeable. He got out a remote of some kind and pressed a button, sending a signal to the liquor shelf, which moved away from the wall with a Hiss. The five rebels piled in quickly. The fifth one sent an uncertain glance at Kane, it was the boy again. He was reassured that it would be all right because Kane was there, even though he wouldn't except it, and rushed into the crawl space. 

After a few minutes the door got knocked off its hinges and Direct troops flowed in, Trevor was the last one inside, calm as ever. The leader of the group spoke, "My name is Darin of Direct Faction, Commander in Chief. Have any of you seen a pack of rebels enter this establishment?" 

No one moved, except for a small nod from Harvey met by a wink from Kane. The tall Enforcer rose and turned to face the Direct Commander. 

"Ah," he exclaimed, "Good, another fellow law enforcer. Well, have you seen any rebels today?" 

"Yes." 

"Here?" 

Kane grinned, "Sure. Have you checked your butt crack today?" 

It took a moment for the other officers to compose themselves after receiving a glare. "You fixin' to get a beating?" 

"Sure, why not. But not here." 

"No, let's fight here." Darin was one of those that would try and sock out a tooth with the slightest remark. Trevor was ready to step in if anything got ugly, he considered this definitely not ugly. 

Darin shot two jabs on either side of Kane's head, he dodged both with his feet firmly planted and still. He saw Darin reaching for his nightstick, so he flicked out his arm stick. He deflected six swipes, then caught Darin's arm, yanked him up and forward, and pummeled his fist into his gut. He retracted back his arm, brought the commander's face right up to his and said; "They're not here." 

The officers knew that Darin had it coming and decided not to interrupt, not until he was dropped back down to solid floor panels was he was helped up and led out of the room. 

"Sorry about the disturbance, have a nice day. Oh, and we'll take care of the door. Put it on my tab, Harvey." Trevor ended and left. 

Kane looked over to where Harvey was sweating and said, "Boy, this is just your best week isn't it?" 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

On an outside street corner, one leaning against a lamp post, the other standing beside him, talking. 

"We only need a few more members and the council has requested you. We've been watching you carefully and believe that we could channel your anger to our advantage." 

"And then we can crush Direct!" 

"Yes, just a few more members." The woman in red grinned. 

"How do we know its safe, Direct has bugs everywhere, you even had to scout this spot so we could talk here?" 

She paused as a green light on her earpiece flickered for a moment, then continued. "I've just been informed all other requests have agreed. Its just you now, that's all. This is how it all begins, the rebellion, the freedom; everything is on your decision. I'm counting on you, Jeremy." 

Jeremy also paused, afraid and uncertain of what he was getting into, but still anxious. 

"I'll do it, but don't tell my brother." 

"Leon won't have a clue, glad to have you with us." she turned her back to him and walked down the street. The next time Jeremy looked, she was gone. 

Inform the Council we've gathered all the renegades, they'll all be there at the meeting. 


	4. (4) Fallen

Chapter 4 

Fallen 

Thomas sat at his desk, staring at his computer. It had been yet another long day trying to sort out a hopeless case about two "time travelers", as they've been dubbed. He was in charge of finding the evidence that would bring this case a little higher on the to-do list. It was 1:00 a.m. on a Friday morning; he was still awake, even without any coffee. People wouldn't start coming in for another five hours at least, although that's still not much sleep time for him. 

Of course, no one got much sleep at the Wing organization, the officials always had some "major" assignment in store for anyone who finished the previous one. They've been nicknamed the FBI of the future, but they haven't lived up to the reputation. Their specialty is investigation and argumentation, but they don't abuse it. However, they've been strangely passive in the recent events. 

"Finally, at least some information." Thomas exclaimed. He had tapped into the Wing surveillance cameras in the last two days. After day one, which took about 6 hours running through the footage, he found at 8:06 on Sunday night that a chase had taken place right before the rally. He saw the figures of the two they were looking for, and a third, probably the one chasing them; he was an Enforcer... 

* * * * * * * * * * 

It was 2:00 in the morning; a stranger wandered the streets of Exodus. It was quite noisy with all the shops still open and cars filled with tourists driving by. He walked up to one of the shops, the "Walking Diner", and walked in. Surprisingly, hardly anyone was inside, but he sat down anyway. He was looking for someone to tell him some information of where he really was, he knew the name of the city, but he wanted the history of it. 

After a few more hours, everyone else was gone and he left the shop. Well, that was a complete waste of time, he thought to himself. 

As he was walking out, he bumped into a rather tall Enforcer. He apologized, but the guy just kept walking, not even a grunt came out of him. He was slumped over, slouched, he looked almost sick. 

"Uh, is anything the matter?" the stranger said as he caught up. 

The Enforcer looked at him, straightened himself, and kept walking, at a slightly faster pace. The stranger was easily back at his side. 

"Do you have anything better to do than follow me?" the Enforcer said after a minute or two. 

"Yes, actually, I could ask you about the history of this city?" 

"Just keep following me." He chuckled. 

Another officer appeared at the end of the street, but his insignia was different, plus, his uniform had less equipment, only one weapon. Instead of just a cloak, he wore an armored mask on his head, connected to two layers of shoulder plates. He was walking briskly toward the Enforcer. 

"Lieutenant Commander J. Kane?" he asked the Enforcer. 

"Yes, and you are?" he answered. 

"Commander Thomas Obias, Wing Squadron." They shook hands. 

The stranger didn't seem to want to be near any sort of authority, and left unnoticed. The two officers looked each other over before saying anything more. 

"We should probably step out the civilian's view, if they see two different officers talking, well- 

"I know." 

Kane followed Thomas into the alleyway; still not sure what this was all about. Kane instinctively leaned against a wall, as he always does in a conversation. Thomas did the same on the wall parallel to him. Once again, the two stared at each other, waiting for whoever spoke first. It was silent for a long time. 

"What did you have to do with those two renegades?" Thomas just blurted it out, he was sick of the silence. His voice was still quiet, calm as the morning air. 

"You mean the "time travelers", and I was chasing them, what else? I assume you found that out from your spy videos." He replied with a hint of sarcasm. 

"Yeah, whatever, were you involved with that, uh, scuffle at Harvey's yesterday? And, while we're on the subject of Harvey's, explain to me what you claim you saw. I've already talked to the bartender." 

"Okay, number one: yes, I did beat up Darin, I actually enjoyed it. And you can't put charges on me because it was self defense." 

"You were asking for it- 

"How would you know?" 

"Scouts." Thomas said the word easily, almost harshly, as if anyone would know about scouts. "But that's beside the point still, the renegades, uh, "time travelers", what were they doing and- 

"Number two: I'll start from the beginning..." he told him everything from when Harvey yelled toward the closet to the rally at Direct's gate. 

"So their names didn't register on the scanner, did you do a world scan?" Thomas was saying after he was done. 

"Yes, same outcome, they didn't register." Kane replied. 

"Hmm, even if they were using fake identities they would still be able to be tracked." Thomas thought out loud. 

"I know, which adds to the theory that they could be time travelers. I've thought about this, if they're from the future, they could be capable of time jumping." 

"But we've only just begun to harness the power of time, we're no where near- 

"Exactly." Kane said simply. Thomas understood. The two officers stood for a good while contemplating this. Both glanced up at each other at the same time. Thomas spoke first. 

"Do you think the High Council would object to a Wing Commander and an Enforcer working together on the case?" 

"Yes." 

"But they don't have to know." Thomas read Kane's mind. 

"Let the partnership begin." Kane ended the conversation; they shook hands, and left in separate directions. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Jeremy held the paper in his hand and looked up toward the street sign, double-checking it. He looked directly southeast from the sign, sighting the run-down, deserted movie-theater. The original doors were barred shut. The note said to enter the back way anyway. 

The meeting wasn't for another hour or so, but he decided he should get there early to get to meet people. The guard at the door was young, 14 or 15 years old, but he tensed up when Jeremy approached. 

"Who're you and what are you doing here?" his voice was low for his age, and he was just as muscular if not more so as Jeremy. 

"My name is Jeremy and I was signed up for the meeting here." Jeremy replied as calmly as he could; he was scared out of his mind of getting caught. 

A symbol on the boy's belt flashed red for a second, then green. The boy relaxed and said, "You're a little early, you do realize that right?" 

"I was hoping I could meet the rest of the participants." He countered. 

"Well, in that case, I'm Mortar, we go by code names within the rebels. It sounds like you'll need one soon, Jeremy?" he commented. 

"Let's make one up now, how about, um, ... How about Kahn?" 

Mortar laughed, saying he didn't look the part. 

"Well, I don't see how you resemble a mortar." Jeremy shot back with a chuckle. 

The two boys laughed together, they became easy friends in those few moments. They passed the time thinking up names for Jeremy, laughing at how stupid each one was. Jeremy settled with the name Ezekiel at five past the hour people were supposed to arrive. 

As if buy cue, the door behind Mortar opened, and a woman in the red and black trench coat walked out, the same woman Jeremy had talked to earlier. "Mortar, have you been keeping our last guest outside like this, you should have brought him in an hour ago." 

"But the note said- 

"That was for security, in case someone got a hold of it, that is why I contacted you." 

"But you didn't, I- 

The woman didn't let him finish and just invited Jeremy inside, Mortar followed, silent as a lamb, as to not attract much attention. The woman's code name Jeremy found out later was Syria. The theater was about three fourths full of protesters and ex-soldiers, even a few highschoolers like himself. The silence was only broken when he entered the room with Mortar, who motioned him to a seat while Syria began the welcome speech... 

* * * * * * * * * * 

"This is insane, you can't do that!" Trevor yelled in the middle of the meeting, "You can't just kill innocent people like that." 

"Sit down, Trevor, we only invited you to this meeting for observation, only so you know what's going on and you won't be confused." The chairman said at the highest podium. 

"Hold on chairman," a voice from the elevated platform sounded, "You didn't consult me on this, why?" 

"Well, Veg- 

"Silence! You do not speak that name now..." the platform stayed where it was, but another object lowered itself to where the chairman was standing, a robot. Basically a head and two arms connected to each other by indestructible rods. It came to rest where the chairman used to be, he moved out of way when it lowered itself into the throne-like chair. The new "chairman" continued, "My name is Simon, do not forget it." He motioned an arm toward a councilman, who stood up and announced himself. "Mr. Smith, read off the names of the unfortunate rally men." Simon commanded. 

Mr. Smith read down the list; Trevor listened intently. Smith's voice came across the name "Jeremy Orson" and Trevor remembered the day of Michael Orson's death that fateful October morning, before the Wing and Enforcer factions were created. It was a recon mission, quick hit and run, that was all. I was only soldier then, well, a Lieutenant, if that even means anything. The recon never happened, while we were marching through a civilian slum, gangs ambushed us. 

Trevor's thoughts were interrupted by someone saying his name, "Trevor, do you agree to the declaration?" Simon was asking. Declaration for what? Trevor thought, are they going to withdraw our troops finally and not kill those 50 people. No, it was a simple document stating that they would never call to arms in that way ever again, not to stop it. 

"Yes, I agree, may I be dismissed." Trevor replied after some thought. 

"Yes, of course, Trevor. We'll see you tonight." 

Trevor didn't wait for the last part of the comment; he just left as quickly as possible. 

It was the time of gang wars, too many rebels. Children were playing in the street, we couldn't defend ourselves, they were in the way. There was one child that was older than the rest; he tried to get everyone to safety. 

The door to the commander's block slid open, and he walked briskly in. It only took a moment for him to find his quarters. 

The boy was only 13 at most, tall for his age. Everyone else was turning their gaze to the gang leader; we might have been able to ward the gangs off in time if not for the children. 

He gathered his leisure clothes as quickly as possible and began to change. 

Finally, the boy cleared out everyone except for a small 5-year-old on the other side of the playground. The baby had seen its mother on the other side, and was running to her, despite the guns blazing around it. I had just fixed my sights on the leader... 

Trevor was out of the room and jogging down the entrance hall toward the door. He stopped when he came across his office, then bolted through the doors and jumped past and down the steps. 

I pulled the trigger simultaneously with the leader, his shot was lower, the 5-year-old was little. The boy didn't even yell when my shot blew apart his left shoulder, or when the pistol's bullet imbedded itself in his leg, the 5-year-old was alive and crying. 

Trevor searched his memory for the map of the city, then found the Orson's house; he sprinted off in the right direction. 

The leader and I both stood motionless, blood was on the pavement, both of us were crying. However, the boy was not dead, at least not yet, he would without help. The leaders didn't fire another shot at my platoon, nor did we at them. The gangs simply retreated, and we called an ambulance for the boy. He stayed alive another two days... 

Trevor skid to a stop in front of the house and bounded up the steps. 

At the funeral, I told the story of what had happened, I was not blamed. The boy's death stopped the gangs, they realized that the shot came from both sides. I made a promise I would watch over them, and if it were in my power, I would keep them from harm. 

His fist rose up to knock on the door. 


	5. Suspects

Chapter 5 

Suspects 

Syria was making a rally into a preacher's service, making sound like Direct was the devil and it was a holy rebellion. Some people were actually buying the speech, including Jeremy. The meeting had only been going a half-hour, and already the crowd was with the speaker. The entire meeting's running time was unscheduled. 

"...They are the very monarchy of the factions and the rest are too blind to see it." Syria continued and there was a roar of agreement. "Together we shall unite against a common foe, the Dictator of the factions. Today shall mark the beginning of the end." 

The welcome speech had ended. Syria turned and strode into the back room only to reappear with an officer, not of any faction known of. The man was lean, with medium build and long hair with a feather stuck in it. He walked to the center podium and surveyed the scene, then walked back to Syria and murmured something in her ear. Syria walked to the left podium and announced the man. "Please welcome our rally leader, Cinder." 

There was a loud roar of welcome as he stepped up. Syria was gone from the room. No one noticed when armed guards entered the back of the room. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

"I've always respected you Trevor, but what are you talking about? What second rally?" Leon was sitting in the recliner, Trevor opposite him on the couch. 

"Another rally was planned, a big one, top secret, against Direct. How could he have not told you, I thought you guys were close, you are brothers." Trevor stated. 

"It would seem that way," Leon took a big sigh, then went back to the original subject. "How would you know about it if it's against you?" 

"Its not." 

"Okay, now you have me confused." Leon had a bewildered look on his face. 

"It's a method, like an elimination technique, used to lure opponents into a concentrated area, then terminate them." Trevor explained. 

"This rally..." Is it Direct? 

"They all were Direct based." Trevor read his thoughts. 

"Why?" Leon wondered aloud, suddenly passive, it was a lot to take in. 

"They had to find out who their enemies were. They used the same method, even after we vowed not to use it again, to stop the gang wars." 

"But, what you said about the elimination thing, you said this was a big rally. The gangs had one huge rally, there was an accident, an explosion of some kind and..." Leon had friends in the gangs, the painful memory was resurfacing. He used the wall for support as he regained his control over the tears. "They were in a concentrated area." 

Trevor only returned his penetrating gaze. Then said the resolution of the idea, "We have to destroy the opposition, our enemies must be terminated." 

"Jeremy." Leon stared at Trevor, the gaze that meant Why are you telling me this? 

"So we can charge out that door and try to stop it before there's any more bloodshed. We're not too late, there's still time." The two paused for a minute, then the next the door was slamming behind them. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Cinder had been walking around shaking hands while others conversed with him and the other rallymen. After he had shaken just about everyone's hand, he walked back to the stage and asked everyone to take their seats. Cinder began discussing plans of "attack" against Direct, stating it was better to hit them hard with politics. His speech was reaching its climax after an hour, "We have discovered our enemies." 

Leon was halfway down the road before he realized Trevor wasn't with him and turned around. Trevor yelled back that he would take another route not to cause suspicion. Leon nodded and resumed his original course. 

"We shall crush them both mentally and physically when we are through." 

Leon recalled the directions given to him and never broke pace, only sped up. 

"We shall destroy the opposition," 

Leon skidded to a stop in front of the old theater, the rusted movie title letters falling apart but still readable. The front doors were boarded shut. He searched the surroundings for something heavy, when there wasn't anything; he began ramming against old wood. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Kane was leaning on the lamppost across the street. 

"We are the rebellion," 

"Trevor sent me." Leon replied. 

Kane was alerted even more and asked, "What do you need?" 

"A little help would be good." 

"It has now become our duty to win. We must destroy the opposition; the factions will pay for their sins. Our enemies must be Terminated." The guards along the back wall cocked their guns. 


	6. Termination

Chapter 6 

Termination 

As everyone turned in their seats to see the guards, Cinder folded his hands behind him and ended with, "Be sure to make it clean." And watched as the guard's laser sights picked targets. 

The boards collapsed in splinters onto the concrete, taking the full force of Kane's weight. He didn't ram it; he jumped horizontally into it, both feet first. He still landed full height and with perfect balance. There was one guard, and, from his eyes, he saw a seven-foot-tall black figure against the light of the outside shining inward like heavenly light. 

"What the hell-, That was all he got out before getting socked in the chin and falling unconscious. Kane drew his gun and stalked quickly down the hallway, Leon close behind. Then shots were heard; only a few, but there were cries attached to that noise. Kane stopped being cautious and sprinted down the winding corridors, Leon lunging to keep up. 

The sharpshooters hadn't picked off anyone yet on their now elevated platform, but they were done playing. They locked crosshairs on Jeremy. Two ground troops drew longswords, one of them grabbing an elderly man by the shirt and shoving him against the wall. He raised his sword above his head for one decisive blow and- Twang! 

The sword flew the air and stuck in the concrete below, it stayed there. While holding his stinging hand, the guard looked up into the smoking barrel of Kane's high-velocity pistol. The other guard whirled, swinging sword, and charged at Kane. 

Kane was faster, much faster. He jumped six feet in the air and executed a diagonal roundhouse kick, connecting with the soldier square in his chin. He landed on one foot just as a third guard was slashing at him. Kane performed a side flip over the man's head. When he landed, he put all the force into his elbow and imbedded it into the man's back. Well, he'll be walking funny for awhile, Kane thought. 

Cinder grinned amusingly at the battle ensuing, Oh, well, I'll just have to kill him too. 

Leon entered the room breathless. The first thing he noticed was the crosshairs on Jeremy's back. His breath came back instantly, and an inner strength of some kind he'd never felt before. He didn't care. A folding chair was nearby, he grabbed it, folded it, held the legs, and heaved it into the air, using that inner strength. It spun like a Frisbee, and downed six guys on the platform. The crosshairs disappeared. 

Meanwhile, Kane was clearing everyone out. Cinder stopped grinning when nearly half the rebels were safe. He grabbed Kane by the shoulder and was delivered a right jab in the jaw. 

Cinder stumbled backward into the left podium, shaking it. Kane wasted no time and charged up to him, hitting three times in the stomach and one upper cut in the chin. The podium fell into pieces, Cinder close behind. 

Everyone was clear except Mortar, Jeremy, Leon, and Kane. There were still two sharpshooters left on the platform. Mortar was cowering in a corner while Jeremy tried to stir him enough to get him out of there. Leon was chucking chairs at the platform, only succeeding in stalling the gunman's aim. Kane was in battle position, more like street fighting, glaring at Cinder. 

Cinder was doing something peculiar, he was trembling, but not in fear. Sweat was running like a river down his face, running off nose onto the floor. As the trembling grew more intense, Cinder suddenly began screaming at the top of his lungs, grabbing the attention of even the sharpshooters, who after a few seconds ran for their lives. 

Then, without warning, wings sprouted from underneath Cinder's clothes. The sweat stopped, the trembling and yelling didn't. He looked as if he was set on fire, or at least surrounded by it, like it was a part of him. 

Finally Cinder was silent. He spread his wings began to float overhead. He bellowed a deep and triumphant laugh as the heroes stared with disbelief up at him. 

"Hi." Cinder said, and then chuckled at himself. His hands became orbs of fire and he shot the floor on either side of Kane. 

Kane wasn't at all impressed, or so it seemed, since you couldn't tell if his mouth was gaping or not. He set his pistol to rapid fire. 

"Get the two kids out of here, I'll handle this." He murmured. Leon did what he was told, but as he rushed toward them, a wall of fire separated he from his brother. 

"The "children" stay and as for- 

Blam! 

Cinder's head snapped back as the charge hit him square in the forehead. Kane turned away from his target and screamed, "Now! Go now!" 

Jeremy, after grabbing Mortar's hand, barreled toward the door. The two "kids" escaped. Leon was debating whether or not to follow; he finally decided against it and took cover behind a podium. Cinder was recovering, a little dazed but not enough to hinder his strength. He blocked the second shot for his eye with his hand, his palm was left smoking, but no damage was inflicted. 

All of Cinder's attention and attacks were now focused on Kane, whom had gotten the idea pretty quickly that this would be a difficult enemy. He latched his left arm grappling hook to the highest far right corner of the room; it stuck in the wall and tightened. Cinder began to volley shots across the floor as Kane began to run. He took about three steps before he went horizontal and ran across the wall. 

Kane was picking up speed; when he was on the far right wall, he leapt, tightening and taking slack, and swung high across the room straight at Cinder. The officer hit the monster with both feet, all the weight pummeling into Cinder's gut. As the creature flew against the wall, Kane landed and immediately began firing all his rounds into the abomination. They hardly fazed him; he flew to the ground, shaking the floor. 

Kane holstered his pistol and went into street fighting position no sooner than Cinder took his first swipe. Kane ducked, jumped the second swipe and simultaneously kicking Cinder in the chest and latching his right grapple to the wall, swinging off and away from the stage to dodge the third swipe. He had hardly broken a sweat, Cinder was very frustrated. Kane didn't bother bringing out his pistol again, he awaited Cinder's next move. 

Spreading his wings, Cinder swooped down from the stage, ramming the unsuspecting Kane with the force of six bulls. Both of them crashed against the back wall, but as they slid to the ground, Kane brought his knee smashing into Cinder's nose, then completing the kick by thrusting his toe into his opponents neck. This was supposed to disable an assailant, it didn't disable him. 

Cinder back-flipped up to his feet and stood full height, muscles bulging. He stared at Kane for a time, grinning slyly... 


	7. Levels

Chapter 7 

Levels 

Cinder had nearly doubled in build, clenching his teeth as he strained to reach another level, he did. Kane was standing 10-11 feet away, awaiting the next move. Cinder's arms spread apart and he fired two energy balls simultaneously. Kane timed it perfectly, leaping 14 feet above the explosion, using the smoke to his advantage. Putting his 213 pounds into his left foot, which found Cinder's face. 

As Kane's attacker hit the ground, he flipped off his face to stand, back to him. Cinder spun and/or flipped to meet him, unfazed. Before the Enforcer could react, Cinder flew forward and thrust his left leg into Kane's stomach, breaking a few ribs as he smashed into the wall. Kane didn't give up. 

Sprinting forward, he let his fury out. A left hook, backhand, and a well-placed right jab sent the warrior sprawled and flattened against the wall, blood trickling from his lower lip and left nostril. Kane doubled over, clutching his ribs, groaning at the faint pain in his mind. He canceled it, pushing away the thought of injury and assuming another fighting stance. 

Hmmm, a worthy opponent, he drew my blood, now I shall draw his! Cinder floated a few feet above the ground and chuckled at his helpless victim. 

All this time, Leon had been watching as if in a trance. He finally broke out of it when he noticed in dismay that his friend was losing. He surveyed the area; the smoking ground, the burning chairs, downed guards- Guards? A long sword was lying beside one of them, and he was careful to reach for it in silence. 

With the last of his rage and strength, as Cinder was swooping toward him, he leapt up, uppercutting the demon's belly. Kane flew up and forward, Cinder flew up and back. Kane had propelled himself faster and farther than Cinder was flying. He used that to his advantage, grasping one of Cinder's wings. Still clutching the wing, Kane landed, crashing the warrior onto the floor. Kane swung him around six times before smashing his face into the nearest wall, the wall cracked and all but crumbled. 

Leon watched in despair as Kane fell against the opposite wall and collapsed, exhausted. He felt the sword's woven handle in his palm, watching the artificial light glint at the tip of the blade. Bringing the blade below his waist, his palm diagonal, he began to focus. 

"What's this? A hero of some kind, perhaps? Or maybe just another fool." Cinder bellowed. 

It was six years ago, Leon remembered, when his father was still alive. He had taught his eldest son swordplay, not just basic training, he even got into mastery of it. But he hadn't used a sword in six years, he hadn't even touched a real one for that time. He prayed that it would come back to him, but doubts clouded his mind. 

I've got no chance, the Enforcer was stronger than I am, but now... No chance... 

Leon pushed the thoughts away, no matter how strong they beat at his subconscious. Slashing the sword to rest behind, and parallel to his now turned body, his eyes rose to meet that of Cinder's. Leaping into the air, straight at his opponent, he brought the sword around in a half-circular motion above his head. He focused with all his heart and soul, and brought the blade down. 

* * * * * * * * * * * 

Trevor shook the guard awake, and, when that didn't work, slapped him hard. He knew this guard, his name was Dick Peterson, only a corporal in the Direct command line. His eyes fluttered open and he sat there, looking dazed. 

"What's going on, where's the commotion!?" Trevor shook him again. 

"Huh?" Dick said drunkenly, then was shoved aside when Trevor heard, and felt, the massive vibration shaking the walls. It came from the main stage; he sprinted in the direction. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

The wind from the slash rippled from the sword, blowing dust and small debris away. Leon unclenched his teeth and opened his closed eyes to see a long gash spanning from Cinder's left shoulder down to his right hip. He had gotten through the armor, but his blade had never touched skin. Leon cursed himself and his doubts for this stupidity, he didn't have a chance. 

Leon felt the full force of the blow, slamming him through the last podium to hit the far wall. He lay with the wind knocked out of him, only a few feet from where Kane lay. Both of them looked into the face of death, whose arms became orbs of light, each arm aiming at one of them. Both awaited the deciding blow... 

Suddenly, Cinder's arms stopped glowing, and he strode to where his victims lay. He eyed them curiously, then grinned. 

Bastard, you just want to savor your victory, maybe return to your master with our severed heads. Kane thought. 

Kane was expecting he to be the first, but instead, Cinder stood over Leon, and raised his fist. 

Sasasasasasasasasasasasasasasasasasasasaaaaaa! 

The energy surges seared across Cinder's back, baking his wings, throwing him off balance. He flew against the wall as the energy rained down on him, the blasts doubling in size and amount. For once there was pain on Cinder's face, as he took in each blast, leaving a blackened scorch mark his skin. Finally, the surges stopped, and Cinder slumped over, his armor in rags. 

Trevor discarded the two energy cyclone guns, drew his customized thrust sword, and charged at Cinder. Cinder may have been weakened, but not weak enough not to catch the sharp blade in his hand. 

"Why are you doing this Trevor," Cinder whispered, still holding on to the sword. "You know you can't defeat me." 

"It must be done." Trevor yanked the sword from Cinder's hand as the demon cried out in pain. 

"Yaaarrrghhh!!" He stared down at the deep gash in his palm and the trickle of blood raining to the floor. After regaining control, he clenched his bloody palm and said, "So be it." 

Cinder became a ball of fire again, charging his power to its limit, Trevor just stood watching. He flew forward; Trevor jumped easily aside as he crumbled the wall with his electrical fist. Cinder whirled, executing multiple roundhouse kicks. His legs sliced through the air and he received a swift sidekick, repositioning his diaphragm as he fell into the stage. He recovered quickly, heading on yet another collision course with Trevor, but it was almost desperate this time. 

Trevor finally attacked, aligning his sword just right with Cinder's left wing. 

The dead piece of flesh fell to the floor quivering; it finally stopped. This sort of brutality was unexpected for Trevor, for anyone. But there he was, he had just sliced off one of Cinder's wings. Leon threw up at the first sight of the trembling flesh. 

Cinder, however, miraculously, took no notice of it. His right arm, though, began to shake, as energy surged through it. Suddenly, from the elbow to his fingertips, there was an electrical block. He didn't need wings to fly and easily floated upward, then sped forward, screaming. 

It was 8:00, Sunday night, Trevor remembered, when his mother took him outside to look at the stars. She said that daddy was up there, with the kings and queens of Eternity. She said that when it was time, the great Dragon Xenotra would return him to the earthly plain. That when it was time, I would bring him back. 

"You asked for this, now- 

I hope you're watching this daddy, I don't think this will bring you back, but if you're there, the back of Trevor's blade only scarcely touched his forehead as he bowed it. 

"-prepare to die, YAAAAAAA!" 

Help me... His eyes shot open, emitting something unheard of for centuries, a power... 

Cinder's electricity surged through the air, making no connection. He felt the sharp, wrenching sting of the thrust sword in his right shoulder, disabling the arm. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked down the metal to the hand holding it, then up into a glaring face. 

As he was pummeled to the ground by unseen blows, Cinder realized that Trevor would not let him live, unless someone intervened, which wouldn't happen. He was on his back now, looking up into the green fire Trevor claimed to be his eyes, between them, a blade no thicker than the strand of hair beside it. Trevor brought the blade over his head, spun it around into stabbing position, and whispered, "So be it." 


	8. (8) First

Chapter 8 

First 

"Freeze! That's enough, we'll take it from here." Thomas's voice rang out, commanding enough to make the enraged Trevor straighten, then finally relax. 

Thank God, I nearly drew first kill, first blood. 

"Stand down... I said stand down." Thomas was speaking directly to Trevor, who still had his sword poised for the kill. 

"I believe the other heroes need some attention." Trevor ordered, sheathing his sword and gesturing to Kane and Leon. Kane waved a weak hand at Thomas, who nodded slightly at it. He ordered several officers to retrieve an ambulance for them, and the others apprehended Cinder, a little intimidated. Cinder was already unconscious, powered down and looking slightly more human. 

It can't be over... Trevor thought to himself. He was questioned secretly along with everyone else; all sides of the story were put in executive files. Cinder was taken by Direct, they insisted because of Trevor. 

Cinder was put in a holding cell well below ground level, or so it was said to all the lower ranks. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

" I wonder if I have destroyed the enemy within." Trevor finished typing on his journal. 

Knock! Knock! 

"Save. Shut down." The computer did as it was told and he closed the desktop. An ensign entered a few moments later, asking if Trevor would follow him to the council room. Trevor let out a long sigh and asked, " I'm guessing you aren't allowed to tell me what it's about?" 

The ensign shook his head. 

"My one question is why did you interfere?" Aidam Stailer asked for the umpteenth time. Argumentation was one of Aidam's best ways of getting the point, questioning, on the other hand, was not his specialty. 

"Innocent lives were at stake." Trevor stated again. 

"NO one is innocent!" Aidam screamed in Trevor's face, spit flying from his lip, Trevor remained stone-faced. 

"Stand down for the moment chancellor." Trunks ordered, "Let some of his colleagues answer for him." Trunks was the youngest, but definitely one of the most intelligent, councilman there. He always wanted to hear all sides of the story before making a decision. 

"I have a conclusion," Trevor's main officer piped up. He stood and approached Aidam. "Trevor stopped Cinder at his time of killing- 

"He destroyed our operation- 

"Trevor wasn't the one to start it, the destruction was not wrought by him." That shut Aidam up momentarily as he searched for a comeback. The officer continued, "The Enforcer and civilian were the ones were stopped the Elimination, you all know that. But since we can't attack the other factions, you choose to attack yourselves and provoke more interest to our enclosed files?" 

"Are you accusing- 

"I'm not accusing anyone, only stating that we should declare him as a hero. He saved lives, think about that, what it might do for us." The officer sat down; he glanced over at Trevor, who remained with no emotion waiting it all out. 

Trunks came to the conclusion first and stood, "I see, Trevor acted against his orders and followed his feelings. The effect it has on us is a few broken bones and the destruction of another Elimination process. However, the destruction can be used to our advantage. If we depict Trevor as a hero, it will raise our popularity among the masses, making them forget about our operation." 

"They won't forget!" Aidam exploded, "Not after the operation, they all experienced it, the rallies will keep coming- 

"Stand down chancellor." 

"-And banging at our door until all the other factions are at war with us!" 

"Silence!" 

"I say that we build up our militia and attack while there's still time." 

One councilman rose next to Aidam and tried to calm him, welcomed with a slap in the face that sent him off balance, but not totally. The man returned with, "There are too many powers against us, so just forget it." 

"They all have to sleep sometime." Trunks rolled his eyes at yet another outburst of Aidam. "Because of this saboteur, we will have to declare war!" 

"Shut up chancellor!" Trunks roared. After a moment of silence, he continued, "We will blame the assassination process on gang war shock and declare Trevor, all in favor?" everyone except Aidam and Trevor raised their hands. 

Kane and Leon both squinted at the morning sun, lying in their hospital beds. They were told to stay overnight for "special healing" they called it. Exodus specialists worked on them while they slept and god knows what they did. 

"Whatever it was, it worked." Kane murmured, looking at his now healed ribs through the pocket x-ray equipment on the shelf next to him, they looked as if nothing had happened to them. 

"Well, I won't need any Tylenol, that's for sure." Leon had had only a throbbing head last night, but now he felt better than ever, if not strengthened. 

Both "heroes" stared at each other, then doubled over laughing. Maybe laughing sounded a little inappropriate counting their circumstances, but they were so shaken up that that was all they could do. After they regained themselves, they snickered a little, and finally got up. 

It was 7:00 a.m., but that wasn't very early in their standards as they dismissed and signed out of the hospital. Walking down the steps, they joked about how Cinder looked like an idiot, then both halted abruptly as they saw the main street. Crowds of people were on the sidewalk, waving Direct flags and cheering. In the center of the street was an open R.E.D. assault vehicle, spruced up with ribbons, badges, and flags. Sitting in the guest seat was Trevor. 

"I'd say it was a very good turnout." Trunks stated from the enclosed balcony atop the main tower section of the building. "The article in the paper has convinced most of the populace that it was a gang operation and Direct stopped it." 

"Most." 

"Well, you of all people should know that it's impossible to change everyone's mind, especially when we rule them." He explained. 

"Rule!? We do not rule anyone, that is what the factions are for, don't ever forget that! Ever!" SIMON exploded; bringing his track attached to the ceiling directly behind Trunks. 

Trunks nodded grimly, recalling his past experiences in battle. SIMON placed a metallic claw gently on his shoulder and said, "I'm sorry." 

"I don't understand," Trunks said, whirling and shrugging off the hand, "Why do we put up with Aidam and the rest, why not just leave?" 

"We are here to guide them, this sort of power needs direction. If we leave, we unlock the door for dictatorship and welcome them with unsuspecting hands." 

Trevor stormed into his commander's office and yelled in his face, "Why did you do that!" 

"It was the only way to save your skin." 

"To depict me as a hero?" 

"Yes." He replied, you could tell he was right. This commander had been in Direct for double Trevor's age, making him a veteran, highly respected among any rank. 

Trevor sat down on the couch, releasing a heavy sigh, then speaking in a softer tone. "I didn't want to be a hero, it was an empty victory. I wanted out, by destroying the operation, I would have been exiled. It should have been over then. Added to that, I defeated Cinder, and I didn't have to kill him to do so. I had accomplished what I needed to in order to gain my freedom." 

"I know." 

"Then, why?" 

"Because I don't want to lose you." He paused, letting the comment sink in, then continued, "You're probably the most honest and understanding officer here. I know you hate it here, frankly so do I. Both of us have seen enough death for sixty lifetimes, and, yes, I also want out. But I'm worried, and I know that the council does have some good people in it, but a hunger for power can easily overcome them. I think only officers like us can hold this place together, before all hell breaks loose." 

"So what do I do now?" Trevor asked with a shrug, what can I do? 

"Keep people in belief of the factions, that's probably the only thing that's going to save us. Dismissed." 

"Sir." Trevor saluted and exited the room. 

"Hmm... They could prove to be difficult. What shall we do if they rebel against the Agenda. Shall we discuss it with Trunks?" 

"No, the fool favors them. Simply, end them..." 


	9. (9) Truth

Chapter 9 

Truth 

"So, let me get this straight; You and "Leon" fought a giant flaming, uh, guy, that could generate energy from his palms?" Thomas was asking. 

"Correct, you got it." Kane said, nodding his head, you could tell he was a little excited by the thought of explaining his experience. 

There was a long pause before Thomas spoke again, "Get some sleep." 

"He had wings, I promise you that!" 

"Just stop wasting my time, ok?" Thomas was annoyed, behind any help coffee could bring. Kane took a long, stern look at the Wing detective, then stalked out of the room. 

Leon stared hard at the ceiling, lying on his bed. The panels were cracked and falling apart, but he didn't care, he was placing his life's last events in order. Remembering every detail of the battle, and how Trevor so easily won. It was as if the officer didn't hear anything, none of the taunts or screams, he just had it all planned out. Like he had some special score to settle and when he said, "' It must be done...'" 

Leon sat up, repeating the words in his head. Why did the parade take place, why was there any need for celebration? 

Flop! 

The paper landed beside his feet on the carpet, Jeremy was leaning against the doorframe. Jostled from his thought, he picked up the paper. 

"Page 6, first article." Jeremy ordered. 

He turned to it, found the article, and read it aloud. "Direct saves old theater and Enforcer." Leon looked up at his brother, who just kept glaring at the paper. He started reading, "At approximately 8:07 Saturday evening, a supposed rally took place within the old Rekus Theater. At 9:25, shots rang out. An Enforcer officer had infiltrated the building with the help of citizen Leon Orson." He looked up again from the paper. 

"Keep reading." 

"An alleged criminal by the code name Cinder was reported to be on the scene when the shots were fired. An assassination attempt of rally members nearly succeeded, but the Enforcer tried to take control of the situation. Captain Trevor Apollos of the Direct faction showed his bravery once again by apprehending the criminal and saving the Enforcer and victim." 

Jeremy winced at the word "victim". Before Leon could finish the article, Jeremy spoke the rest from memory, "The guards were identified as Shadous followers and taken to the Wing facility of prisoners. The rest of it is just praise to Trevor about his life and all the "brave" things he's done." 

"Shadous? They've been gone for years, the gang wars went with them." Leon was the older of the two and could remember the wars more clearly. 

"Not according to Direct." 

Leon slowly came to the conclusion, they're covering it up, blaming someone else. He grasped the paper in both hands and charged outside, heading straight for the Enforcer headquarters. 

He was surprised to find Kane waiting for him, leaning on a lamppost, fanning himself with the paper. "You're late, I expected you a little more than five minutes ago." 

"You get the paper faster." 

"Well, that's true." Kane waited for the conversation to begin, still fanning himself. 

"We need to fight this, somehow." Leon finally said. 

"We just might be able to, follow me." Kane turned and began to walk down toward the Rekus, Leon sprinted to keep up to pace. 

Clunk! The doorframe board fell to the floor when Kane's shoulder nicked it. The stage was a wreck, well; actually, it was the best looking thing in the whole room. Charred chairs littered the floor; the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. 

"Why are we hear?" Leon asked impatiently. 

"Shh." Kane scanned the area. Nothing, why did I come back? Direct covered it all up. He started for the door. 

"Wait." Leon said, grabbing Kane's arm and pointing at a pile of debris. Both gazed at it, then Kane's eyes went wide. Sprinting over to it, he dug into the pile. A few minutes later, he cleared all the rocks away to reveal a limp, dead wing. Kane smiled to himself, recalling how it got there. 

He ripped a piece off the burnt chairs, and said, "This is radioactive. And this," He held up the wing, "is our way of getting out the truth. Follow me." 

The Wing Headquarters was a huge structure, holding centuries of facts, but not knowledge; that was Exodus. It was similar to the castle-like look of Sword of Vengeance, which was to the edge of the city. This building was exactly in the center, as to be the perfect distance from anything. Kane was the first up to the door and inside, Leon charged after him. 

"Thomas Apollos please, I need to speak with him." Kane told the desk clerk. 

"Excuse me?" 

"Thomas Apollos, it's urgent." 

The clerk looked him over in amusement, then looked more intently at his duffel bag. "What's in there?" he gestured to the bag. 

"That's for Apollos only." Kane stated. 

"Oh really, I think I should take a look." He snatched up the bag. 

"I would advise against that." He was grinning under his mask. 

"Aaaagh!" the clerk only had to glance at the severed wing to get the picture. He composed himself, zipped up the bag, and then waved them through. 

"Yep, this is radioactive residue on the fabric." Thomas leaned back in his chair, away from the scanner. "What do you want me to say, so there's radioactivity going on, so what, it happens." 

"Are we right?" Leon asked. 

"I doubt radioactive chair material is going to go very far in the way of evidence- Whoa! Geez!" Thomas fell out of his chair when his feet scrambled backward at the sight of the decaying wing Kane had slammed on the table. "What the heck is that?" He said when he found his bearings. 

"It was my clearance." Kane chuckled. 

"The clerk saw this? What did he do?" 

Leon mimicked the face the clerk made, laughing convulsively. Thomas laughed too, then quickly stopped when he got a better look at the dead flesh. "Uh, it looks, um, sliced off." 

"Trevor's sword." That's all Kane said until Leon piped in. 

"Could you scan it?" 

"We'll use the bigger version, uh, could you," he nodded toward the wing, "get that?" 

Leon obliged with a snicker. 

"So where to now, for you I mean. You could stay with us." Jeremy was talking to Mortar just outside the house. 

"No, that might provide some danger for you. I know a place; it's on the outskirts, for people like us. You're welcome to come and see if you like?" He took a step south, paused, uncertain, then continued to walk away. 

Hey, if Leon can run out, I will too. Jeremy thought about it, then bolted to catch up. 

Thunk! The wing slammed on the table, shaking a few beakers; Thomas reacted to stop them from falling. 

Crash! The glass skittered across the floor opposite Leon's feet. The officer had obviously failed to save that beaker but salvaged the rest. 

They were in the observatory; telescopes, big scanners, and information files were set up everywhere. A giant telescope stood in the center of the circular room. 

"How many solar systems do you watch with this?" Leon had walked over the center telescope and was fingering over the controls, only lightly touching the keys. On one, he touched it a little too hard. 

"Don't touch that, it's not a telescope!" Thomas yelled at Leon. 

The machine shook and began to hum; the hum became a screech, then a high-pitched Elmo screaming. The first thing that flashed in Kane's mind was, Gun. 

"Oh my- Oof!" Leon grunted when Kane shoved him out of the way of the red beam that now engulfed his rescuer. 

It was, basically, a very large, beat-up shack. Tools and old firearms that rotted and stunk of sweat were strewn across the wall. Mortar entered, giving a joyous "hello" to everyone he knew and introducing himself to anyone new. Jeremy, after taking a deep breath of fresh air outside, cautiously entered, eyeing random homeless rebels. Some stared him back, stared at his clean clothes and clean hygiene. 

"Forge!" Mortar took the hand of one of the less grungy men and hoisted him to his feet. "I would like you to meet my friend, Jeremy." 

The man outstretched his hand, which was covered in a heavy gauntlet. Jeremy took it after a moment's hesitation and a small feeling of respect brushed over them. "So, I hear your brother saved some lives, including that of yours." His voice was deep and full, a speaker's voice. He looked about sixty, perhaps younger; maybe it was the light. 

Mortar left the two alone and attended to other things. 

When Jeremy said nothing in return, Forge changed the subject. "I know you don't know many people here, but, I think you should meet these two." He motioned to two men in the far corner who were the most talkative, Jeremy now noticed. "They arrived just two days ago and they've already brightened everyone's day." 

"Hey, fella's!" Forge half-yelled to the two men, surprising one of them, they could tell because he shook a little. Both stood, one looked short and heavyset, but when he removed his large trench coat, he was wearing bulky armor. At first Jeremy thought he was a soldier and he was in trouble, but he could find no mark of any of the factions upon him or his armor. The other man left his coat on and stuck out his arm in a jerked movement, greeting with, "H'cow do hyou do? My hname is Vor'." 

Vor' had a heavy Russian accent and smelled slightly of whiskey. The one in armor brought his hand out in one swift motion and sounded only slightly English. "And I am Jim. You are?" 

"J-Jeremy," he didn't mean to stutter, he just really hadn't said his own name in a while. 

The beam subsided into a thin, red dot, then disappeared. Kane stood there, wondering why he was still alive when the machine whirred again and said in an electronic voice, "Humanoid. Enforcer, Kane Trikes of Crimson Squadron. Height: inaccurate measure. Weight: 30- fzzzzzzzmmmmmt..." Thomas had thrown the switch down. The machine stopped its description and slowed, then finally turned off. 

"It goes all the way down to when you last showered." Thomas commented, holding back a chuckle. 

A laugh escaped Kane from deep inside as he asked, already knowing the answer, "It's a scanner." 

Thomas held out his arms in a look that described what he couldn't say because he was giggling too hard, yes. 

Finally, Leon got impatient and yelled; "Can we please get on with this?" 

"Right. Back to business." Thomas was serious again as he got the other scanner running to look over their "evidence". 

The monitor next to it hummed, beeped, and hummed some more as a DNA strand was drawn from the wing. But, something was wrong, the strand, when it was finished, looked strange... 

"Whoa!" Thomas exclaimed in pure bewilderment. Leon rushed over to where Kane had run to look at the display. The strand had the two main legs of the ladder, but there were six more in between the two. These, the computer could not identify. 

"Whatever that guy is, he's not human." Thomas muttered. 

"Well, duh, considering how he sprouted wings and shot fire from his hands at us." Leon was fed up with people not believing him and he went on raving about how Cinder could do this or that while the others ignored him. 

"Is there any way we can get this out in the open, the truth I mean." Kane whispered under Leon's tantrum. 

"Too risky; if Direct really had covered up the truth, they'd spot us in a heartbeat and just cover it up again. No, we need to start small. We need to write something explaining this," he motioned again the limp wing, " and let some people know, but in secret." 

"But where could we go to announce this?" Kane asked, completely having no idea. 

"The outskirts, where the homeless live." Leon had stopped his raving and was listening for most of the conversation, now he finally piped up. 

"Give the truth to bums?" Thomas almost laughed at his question. 

"No. Most of the rebels live on the outskirts." 

Kane was still weary, "Rebels cause uprising, we don't want a war." 

"Then we'll keep it subtle." 

"We can't count on that, there's no way we can keep this subtle, it's the biggest blow against Direct. We still can't risk losing it." Thomas spoke with a tone that told you he knew what he was talking about. 

"What if we used it as bribe?" Leon suggested, trying to give new hope to the subject. 

"They'd track us down the moment we contact them." There was a long pause after that, no one said anything, and each thinking of a different plan that kept failing. In the end, they all went back to the outskirts. 

Kane gave the word, "I guess we'll have to chance it." 

Jeremy was just finishing a game of chess with Forge when Mortar came running full speed into the shack calling, "I think we've got trouble." 

At the word "trouble", Jim and Vor' stood and picked up their weapons. For the first time, Jeremy glanced at their weapons. They were things he'd never seen before; he could make reference to old-fashioned guns and kitchenware. Jim's gun was like an average rifle on steroids, with three large slots on the left broadside. Vor's was a mix of a deformed Uzi and telescope. Both automatically cocked as their users stood up. 

Mortar finally was breathing normally again and stammered out a description, "There's a huge Enforcer, with a Wing detective, and someone not of the factions, a civilian." 

Jeremy was the first to the counter the comment, "Look again, at the civilian." 

Mortar made a face, then ran back to the door and took a longer look, his expression changed. "It's your brother, Leon?" 

Kane entered first, a little wary on what to expect, then Thomas and Leon. Jeremy sprinted up to them, only glancing at Kane, and asked Leon, "What are you doing here?" 

Leon's only answer was a nod toward Kane, who easily took charge. "Where are the newspapers in this establishment?" 

While everyone else glared at the Enforcer, only Forge said in a friendly tone, "We only get one, would you like to read it?" 

"Yes, please." Kane answered after a moment's hesitation. 

Forge brought the paper to him and Kane accepted it, eyeing the fire barrel, eyeing their fireplace. Acting casual, Kane strode up to the barrel and tossed the paper in. There was a quick fffzzzt as the pages exploded into instant ashes within the fire. Now people were starting to get up, giving yells of disapproval. Vor started yelling obscenities in Russian toward the Enforcer. 

Ignoring the yells and taunts, he walked calmly back to where Thomas stood at the doorway. Taking the document from the detective's hand, he walked back over to Forge, placing the document into the man's still open palm. 

"What is this?" the old man asked in wonder. 

"The truth." 


	10. (10) Uprising

Chapter 10 

Uprising 

"All I'm saying is that we're wasting our time trying to be subtle, we should blow them all to smithereens, we have the military power to do so." 

"Once again Aidam, we don't want to start a war." Trunks tried to silence him, but to no avail, the floor was his. 

"If we spend less time trying to settle a rally, and more time spreading our forces and taking over, then we won't need a war." 

"The other factions will find out," called Shane Krosh from his chair, "More importantly Vengeance and Exodus will find out first, then they'll come after us." 

"Not if we get them first." 

"What are you saying?" Simon was also part of the discussion now as he descended from his hatch in the ceiling. 

"I'm saying that if we build up our forces, in a few years, maybe even less than that, we can wipe them out." 

"That's called war Aidam." Shane spoke to him like a teacher would to a 6-year-old. 

"No, because there wouldn't be any opposition. We wouldn't be fighting anyone, we'd be conquering." 

Everyone knew that Aidam was dreaming of this moment, the chance to yell in their faces like this. The scary thing was, though, everyone knew he was right. 

The morning was damp, and getting damper every passing minute. The rooftops were slippery, even if some were flat. The runoff from the gargoyle decoration made them look truly alive. One solemn walker finds his refuge atop a high decoration piece, like a horizontal pillar jutting out from the building. He looked up at the dark sky and murmured, "Solitude." 

Bowing his head slightly in the rain, he let the water run down his back. The symbol of a sword was visible on his chest plate. Four electronic, metal gliding wings were attached to the back of the plate. His metallic, claw-like gauntlets didn't rust in the downpour, but remained as strong as ever. 

A clawed finger tapped the sensor button on his forehead. The two jaw fortifiers snapped back so that they were straight in a line with his neck, releasing the vice grip of his black helmet. After shedding his chest/back/shoulder plate, including the wings, he lifted off his helmet, taking a deep breath of the morning air. He let the water soak his bald head and actually felt the light wind hit his face. "Fresh air." 

He took a few extra sniffs of the air and noticed a smell; something that no good could come of. And the smell was getting closer. "Smoke." 

"If I took a force of say, a thousand men, and explored the outer regions, we would have the knowledge necessary to spread." The argument had been going on for at least an hour, although this time people weren't annoyed, all listening intently to the speech, even Trunks. 

"We're not allowed to spread, unless we have a meeting with the rest of the factions." Shane finally spoke up. 

"That is why we strike first, spread out later." He had gone back to the same point he always tries to make, that's how the interest was lost. 

An ensign stormed into the room, clutching a sound recording disk from one of the cameras hidden somewhere in the city. 

"Now, ensign, I would normally scream at you for barging in here, but at this moment, I commend you for the break." Simon said to calm the nervous ensign. 

"Uh, thank you sir." The ensign remembered where he was and continued with his haste, "Sir! I believe you should here this." He said as he shoved the disk into a player in the wall. The sound of chanting filled the room. 

"Direct is Control! We destroy Control! Direct is Control!" The chanting started as one voice on the recording, then quickly became two, then ten, then a huge amount that can't be counted. 

"Where was this recorded?" Trunks demanded. 

"By one of the drones on the outskirts, sir." 

Trunks turned to Shane, who stared blankly across the table and said, "Control? Wasn't that the- 

"Turn it off. We've heard enough." Trunks ordered as he sat down to think. But the noise continued, just softer than before. Trunks stood up and whirled on the ensign screaming, "I didn't say turn it down, I said turn it off!!" 

The ensign was cowering in fear against the wall, but Trunks' attention was no longer on him, it was on the player. The power switch was off. His eyes grew wide with surprise; he could still hear the chanting. 

It was silent in the room; he focused his hearing. Suddenly, his head snapped left, toward the window. He walked slowly over to it, brushing back the curtains. His eyes became narrow slits. 

"Trunks, what is it?" Shane asked, standing. 

"Mobilize the troops." 

The cement fell away in mist and ash, leaving a six-inch deep hole in the step. Vor' grinned as he realized that his weapon was way out of this world's league. His blaster's shot had sent murmurs of wonder through the mob behind him. The chanting continued, louder than before, as people gained their confidence. 

A few feet behind the mob stood Kane, arms folded, staring at Vor'. Thomas was shaking his head murmuring, "We can't stop them now. This is what you were afraid of wasn't it?" 

"Yes, I expected an uprising. We shouldn't have chanced it." Kane reflected. 

Leon didn't comment, he had mixed emotions. Perhaps Direct deserves this, he thought. 

"They don't deserve war, which is what will result soon. I've seen how they react to rallies, and this is much more than a rally." Kane surveyed. 

"When that happens, what do we do?" Leon asked. 

"For once in my life, I don't know." Kane actually shrugged. 

"Well, we'd better do something quick, look!" Thomas had been watching Vor' and his mannerisms indicated he didn't like how things were going. 

Vor' had shot the steps at the main door so much that when the first soldier's foot hit them, they collapsed under the weight, carrying two soldiers down the stairs and into the awaiting arms of the rebels. The rest of the soldiers dodged over the steps and pulled out their guns, aiming at about point blank range. A nervous silence filled the air, both sides twitching at their triggers. Before anyone could fire a shot, however, both sides strangely retreated just as fast as they had assembled. 

"This has just gotten way too complicated." Kane observed. 

"What do you mean? What happened?" Leon didn't understand. 

Thomas turned around and said, "It's now a hostage situation." And he walked away... 


	11. (11) Advocate

Chapter 11 

Advocate 

"So what do we do?" It was 5 a.m. The council had been working on this decision for nearly 12 hours straight. 

"We need to send a force to attack them, duh, what have I been saying for the last two hours?" Aidam exalted for the fifth time. 

"What you've been saying is complete suicide for the two men being held. If we go in there shooting, most likely they'll shoot them. So screw that idea, ok?" Shane was all but about to give Aidam a new face. 

"We need a detective." Trevor said. After many debates, he had been awarded a seat on the council, since he had more experience with settling rebel disputes. 

"One problem, the only good detectives are at Wing, and, unfortunately, we haven't heard from the factions or Trunks for a couple of days. I don't know how long we can hold out here, for all we know those guys might be dead and this is all a hoax." Shane put his head in his hands on the table. 

"Funny you should say that, because I just spoke with the factions." Trunks entered the room and patted Shane on the back, comforting him; then he spoke to the whole group. "We have the cooperation of the Silver Wing Collective." 

"Why can't we get Gold Wing?" Aidam asked dryly. 

"They're busy." Trunks answered shortly. 

"Busy!" Shane exploded. "We have people down there being held against their will and a rebel uprising threatening to kick us outta' town, what the hell are they busy on, huh?" 

"You know better, Shane. This is Wing we're talking about, if there's something they're working on, we know it's important." Trunks told him off and continued with the news as he sat down at the head. "I'm just not allowed to say what. You know our ways, Shane." 

"Trevor, do the honors please." Trunks said as he passed the folder he was carrying down to Trevor's place. 

Trevor hesitantly opened the folder and read, "Your requested assistance is felt as- 

"Skip that. Go to the bottom." Trunks ordered. 

"... Lieutenant Commander... Thomas Pollo?" 

"Correct. We have the same detective who arrested Cinder." 

There was moment's silence as the 12 men contemplated these odds with this officer. 

"By the way, he'll be here in ten minutes for a full instructional report." Trunks added, grinning when everyone struggled to act alive. "And I ordered some coffee, more like espresso, to keep us awake that long." A short-lived chuckle arose and fell amongst the council. 

5:06 a.m. 

"So why can't I go?" Leon had just climbed into Thomas's newly furnished Hurricus hovercraft cruiser. Thomas simply would not give in. Finally, he sighed a deep sigh and abruptly whirled in his seat to face Leon. 

"You can't go because I need to act as an ambassador for both Direct and the rebel force, getting demands, and mainly, getting involved. The main reason you can't go is that I don't want you to get shot." Leon quietly stepped out of the cruiser and onto the sidewalk. He watched passively as his friend sped away toward his alleged enemy's lair. 

5:23 a.m. 

Thwunk! The punch hit the defenseless soldier directly in the gut, knocking out his air. He slumped back against the wall coughing. The other sat in tatters of his own armor, bruises and weakness all but swirling around him. "I think this trash needs one more beatin'" But the man's fist was caught, and then all you could see was his wincing face and hear the snapping of bones. Then he was thrust back against the opposite wall. 

"That's enough." The stranger said. 

Vor' worked his way through the crowd and demanded the stranger's reason. 

He answered as if Vor' were an idiot, "These "enemies", as you so lovingly call them, are completely defenseless, where's the honor in that?" he motioned to the two soldiers. "Don't you realize what you're doing?" The rebels stared blankly at him. 

"We are doing what we have to." Vor' turned to leave. 

"This doesn't have to be done." Vor' turned back and acted as if he had been struck by the stranger's words. 

"What?" he questioned. 

"This isn't just." The man kept talking as Vor' stalked toward him, "these men have gone without food, water, ...Or sleep for days. You can't just treat them like animals. You are putting all the mistakes of Direct on their heads, and then beating the crap out of them as if it were their fault. You people are just angry, that's understandable, but you're being coaxed on by something, by someone." He looked directly at Vor' and a small murmur arose through the crowd, considering this possibility. 

Vor' was a good 6 inches taller than the stranger, but it seemed as if his shadow cast no darkness over him, so he continued his accusation. "What happened to Jim? Oh yeah, I remember, he's on the roof, playing lookout. You, on the other hand, are sitting here getting drunk and beating these people senseless while he's not looking, so he can't keep you in line." Vor' took one more step closer to the speaker. 

"Look, I don't know what your past is. I don't even know where the hell you came from. But this isn't right, and you know it." 

The Russian was about to pull back his fist, but Jim's voice interrupted him. All eyes now focused on the old veteran. "We've got company, a scout. A rebel scout." 

The scout ran in moments after with a newspaper in her hand. She held it out in her hand and read aloud, "The terrorist's demands have been reviewed and a detective has been hired to investigate the matter." She stopped reading and looked up, "His name is Thomas Pollo of the Silver Wing Collective." 

Jim took this in and said to Vor', "Get these men some food and new clothes, I'll talk to you later." 

Vor' slowly turned back to the grinning stranger, then grunted and entered another room. 

5:31 a.m. 

"Lieutenant Thomas Pollo, Silver Wing Collective, second class." Thomas was standing at the foot of the council's table, introducing himself. At this hour, he felt stiff as a board, and basically looked the same, too. 

"Lieutenant?" Simon asked. 

"Yes sir?" he stiffened more. 

"At ease." 

"Oh, sorry." Thomas basically let all his worries leave him. 

"Let's get down to business... The terrorist hostages have been held for approximately three days now, and are expecting rescue." Shane started the instructions. 

"I know all of this. Councilmen, I just want to do my job, I already know the facts. So just tell me what I need to do." Thomas just wanted to get the job done. 

Pretty much everyone nodded in agreement. "You need to approach them as a friend and have them change their demands or get those soldiers back, peacefully." 

"Sounds easy enough." Thomas murmured, then turned to leave. 

Trunks stopped him at the door, "By the way, I shall be accompanying you. Wait in the lobby." 

6:03 a.m. 

"What were you thinking?" Jim asked. 

"They need to be taught a lesson." Vor' answered weakly. 

"The only thing we're teaching in there is that Direct is bad and whoever is part of it should be killed." 

"I thought we came here to stop Control from surfacing?" 

"We did, just not like this." 

"But they're Direct scum!" 

"The innocents Direct manipulates are not the scum they produce! If you quit going by instinct and nature, perhaps more lives would be saved." Jim turned and walked back inside. 

6:23 a.m. 

Coeschhhhhhh! The door slide open and Trunks stepped inside the tower dome. "You wanted to see me?" 

He could hear the whir of the gears and turbines spinning as Simon's electronic body slid down to Trunks's level on its cylinder. 

"I believe we may have a problem." 

"Of course, we need to find out how to get our men back, if they're even still alive." Trunks said while he paced past and to the window. 

"Not that, something else." 

There was a dead silence. 

"It's about Trevor." 

"What could Trevor have to with- 

"Sir, your advocate is about to leave." The speaker boomed into the silenced room. 

Trunks looked expectantly at Simon. "It can wait. Go." He said as he ascended into the darkness. 

With one last look at his master, Trunks quickly strode out of the room. 

6:24 a.m. 

Thomas heard the beep, beep of his hovercraft as Trunks walked up and stood next to him. "About to leave without me, huh?" 

"These kinds of things stand still for no one." Both stepped into the craft simultaneously and sped toward the outskirts. 

8:00 a.m. 

"Do you think it'll work?" Leon was sitting on the couch, skimming through the newspaper. 

"I don't know." Jeremy was leaning against the wall, tossing an old basketball up and down in his hands. "I mean, it just got outta' hand again. Just like the rally." He tossed the ball in the air again. 

Leon caught the ball in his right hand, pausing Jeremy's thoughts, "Don't you think there's something we should try and do?" 

Jeremy took the ball back, "What can we do? For all I know, Mortar's probably with them doing God knows what." 

"Then I guess all we can do is wait." Leon sat back down with a thump. 

"... As I said, I can't tell the future. And I don't know what's caused you to resort to this extreme, but I can help." Thomas had been there for nearly three hours straight, trying to calm people down and most of all, trying not to start a war. 

"They lied, it was a simple cover-up and you know it! You even gave us the truth." A protester stood up. 

"I gave you that paper to just show you the truth, not knowing you'd go psycho about it!" Thomas flared. 

"Excuse me." Jim had silenced everyone. You could tell by his calm that he knew what to do, "You might wish to use better words around us. We've had a long few nights, and we're a little grumpy." There was some drunken wisdom in his tone. 

Thomas put his hands on the table and leaned his weight on them. He looked up, "Why can't you just let them go and forget this ever happened. There would be less suffering for all of us." 

"Know this, Thomas." Jim stood to speak, "The sins of Direct can never be forgotten. They have done things that you could never have imagined." 

"What did they do?" Thomas asked with dark interest. 

"Ask the one they call Simon." 

"Simon, huh?" 

"Yeah, that's what he said." He was talking to Kane in one of the many alleyways of the city. 

"Humph! Seems like they really know something we don't." 

"Yeah." Thomas took off his helmet. He wondered in the silence for a moment. 

"You wanna' find out?" Kane asked out of the blue. 

"What?" 

"Do you want to find out what Direct did in the past?" Kane repeated. 

Thomas was suddenly awake. 

"So this is what you do on your spare time?" he asked through the communicator in his helmet. 

"Yeah, why not? Make plans to infiltrate the leader of the Factions headquarters and find out numerous government secrets and failures." Kane replied with a laugh. 

"Sounds like you have a hell of a time doing so. Or maybe you're just as eager to know what's goin' on." 

"It's one of those." 

Thomas let go a nervous laugh. "So where'd you get this key? I hope you didn't have to slit any throats." He asked, thumbing the keycard in his pocket. 

"Some idiot showed it to me when he was drunk at Harvey's, then passed out in front of me, leaving it on the table." 

"Huh. Lucky you." Thomas felt a little guilty at the thought. 

Thomas strode into the lobby, turning into the hall leading to the executive and military rooms, but stopped short. There were about three guards near the entrance, but no one noticed him yet. Not chancing it, he slipped back around the corner and whispered into his microphone. "There're guards here, I can't get through." 

"I'm fully aware of that, just a few more seconds. I'm almost through." 

"Huh?" Through to what? 

"All right, the signal's sent. Look back at the guards." 

He was already doing so. They were holding their fingers to their ears, listening to their earphones. All three looked at each other, then raced away toward some unknown room. 

Thomas proceeded through the door unnoticed. 

The Wing officer sped around a corner and stopped short when he heard footsteps. Finding the nearest room, an open closet, he flattened himself against the wall as a platoon of soldiers flooded past. He poked his head out after; everything looked clear. He sprinted out of the room and down the hall where the soldiers had come from, only to be stopped by a translucent fence of lasers. He was just centimeters away from triggering the alarm. Thomas inched backward until he was a few feet away, then charged the opposite direction. Hearing voices again, he ducked into the closet. 

The platoon flooded the hallway, and stayed there. There's got to be a way out. Thomas gazed around the room. There were boxes and brooms everywhere. Nothing of use. But then, something useful finally came into view, the air vent. 

Thomas entered the room unnoticed, kicking the grate out of his way and dropping from the ceiling. He landed with a small clang on a pipe, leapt to an adjacent platform, then dropped to the floor. He walked around; coming into the little light that was emitting from the crack in the door. Only the faint glow of his control modules on his gun could match the light. 

"Who are you, spy, explain yourself?" Thomas suddenly readied his gun and could hear the rustling of gears around him. 

"Lieutenant Thomas Pollo, First Class Silver Wing Collective." Thomas steadily answered, turning around to try and see whatever was making the noise. He couldn't see it yet, whatever it was. "And you are?" he challenged 

"Simon Temper. President and founder of the Direct Councilmen Collective Legion, number 90667998." 

"Then show yourself." Thomas was turning every which way, then finally stopped, giving up. 

"Turn around, advocate." 

Thomas was utterly annoyed by this, but did as he was told and turned. This time, however, he did see something that sent him against the near wall from fear and wonder at the sight before him. It was dark, so shapes were hard to make out. He saw two triangular, metal shoulders, with arms of wires running down, covered by a shining, clear material. From the elbow, or what he thought was the elbow, down it looked like a sort of metal gauntlet ending with three-fingered talons. The least he could make out of the body were two poles connecting the arms to each other and the head. There were no legs. 

"My God. You've got to be kidding me." 

"Why are you here?" Simon didn't believe in long introductions. 

"I've g-got every reason to be here like you." Thomas stuttered out, which surprised him, since he doesn't stutter. 

"Of course. But the look in your eyes tells me otherwise of your intentions." Thomas looked worried, like he didn't know what to do. "Oh, out with it. You look as if you're about to burst. You can't keep anything from me." 

Thomas finally let in and spat it out in a rush, "I heard the rebels say that you had committed millions of crimes that hadn't happened yet. I was confused at first, but then I remembered that there were rumors of you planning something, something called the, the Termination?" Thomas took another breath and paused for a reaction. Simon was still. He went on, "So I came down here to try and find out what those other plans were, and then you came down here." 

"Ingenious. The way you got in. I had been watching you the whole time when your little scheme took place. Oh, and by the way, if you're thinking of going down there again, you're too late." 

It took Thomas a second to realize what he was talking about. "Why am I too late?" 

"Trunks is already on his way there." 

The fire was dying. Rebels growing ever more restless. The captives had given up struggle. But all commotion ceased when a loud thump echoed outside. 

First, the fire abruptly puffed out. Next, the roof flew off. In the moonlight, a shadowed figure could be seen, but he quickly found the shadows after he dropped down to bottom floor. The crunching of bones could be heard, with the thud of the victim's bodies littering the floor. 

Only a few moments later did Vor' and a few others light flares. The soldier checked the bodies. Unconscious. A few broken bones were all the damage done. Vor' lit the rest of the room, searching for the attacker, until the glint of a blade reflected off his visor to the left. He instantly reacted, dropping to one knee and arming his blaster as a longsword slashed over where his head had been a moment before. The blaster fired a primary shot directly at the heart. 

The shot singed the nearby wall. Vor' was stunned. No one can dodge a laser blast. At least none he knew of could. The next blow to his chest sent him through the opposite wall and rolling down the hill. The other rebels reacted almost precisely after, punching and kicking, all missing, at the attacker. 

The figure re-drew his sword and jumped/spun into the air, whirling over their heads and landing to slice through the ropes binding the officers in one swift movement. A club raised over the figure's head, but the ceiling crunched down on its holder, the weight of another tall, armor-clad figure crushing him. Vor launched himself at this new figure, only to be easily picked up with one hand and tossed over its shoulder. 

"Go!" the new figure said to the old. 

Trunks nodded and lifted up the two hostages and dashed into the darkness. The huge figure continued to take on the other attackers and rebels. Jim watched in silence from the only other room from a distance. Vor turned up from his spot on the floor and glared after Trunks. 

Trunks half-dragged/guided the guards through the streets, nearly picking them up. In the distance, Vor appeared at the end of the street, gun armed and taking aim. Trevor watched in horror from his quarters window. 


	12. (12) Memories

Chapter 12 

Memories 

Trevor's grappling hook flew the glass, its shards mixing with the coming rain. He leapt out and the rope tightened. 

Vor's eye found the target. 

Trevor's flew and dropped faster than the rain itself, his silhouetted body gleaming in the dawn light. 

Vor fired the gun. A beam the size of a baseball rod came out, and its victim let out a cry of anguish when he turned his head to see it. 

Trevor cut off the rope and fell onto the black street. The first shot ignited his foot, but hundreds of others struck and surged against his body. The only he said before a beam singed through his throat was, "Never again." He gurgled a final breath. 

Leon awoke in a sweat. He had fallen asleep in the recliner. Something's happened, he thought. 

Then they came. Out of the alleyways and streets, cyclone blasters ready. They came, and filled all the area behind Trevor's smoking body, aiming directly at his killer. Every last one of them wanted to fire. 

Leon flew out the door and began to run. His instincts told him to run. Through the streets and alleys, until he found what he believed he had lost. 

Vor's rebels also came, bearing rocks and slings, primitive, but still a threat. An odd standoff commenced. Sweat dribbled down the faces of every soul there. 

Leon stopped dead at 9^th Street, the dividing line of the city, and his breathing became fast and short at the sight. Trevor. The sight of his friend made him tremble. Trevor's body was locked in the position of what looked like a man gazing into heaven, waiting to be accepted by God himself. Leon ran faster past the bricks and cans. Past the rundown doors and mice. He didn't want God to take him now. 

A boy ran out of the alley and skidded/kneeled at Trevor's body. He clasped it as if it were the only possession in the world. He just kept rocking back and forth grasping the corpse and murmuring, "Oh God, oh God, Trevor... I'm sorry... Sorry..." 

After what seemed like forever, Leon's tear stricken face came up to glare at them all. His body was trembling from the convulsive sobbing. He glared at them all. At the hostages, and even Trunks. 

All that were there felt the realization of what they had caused. Even Trunks himself felt the heavy load of guilt. Vor stepped back and disappeared from the crowd as fingers on triggers relaxed. 

Mortar gazed down at his gun, and let it drop to the grass as he ran away. Several other young boys followed. An older man holding a pitchfork upon a warehouse roof raised his "weapon" high in the air, then brought it crashing down upon his knee. He tossed the pieces over the wall, letting them clatter on the pavement, and walked away. 

Jim stood upon the horizon, slack with realization. "What in God's name have we done?" 

No one could fire now. Both armies simply stood, and stared at nothing. All Trunks could do was place his hand on Leon's shoulder. The boy didn't even notice. 

Jeremy sat on the couch, rocking back and forth. Memories of the times before Michael's death, when Trevor had visited. He was like a second father to them all. Even after the death, he paid the bills until the family could get over the shock. He had played with them, tennis, and soccer. Maybe just sat on the back step. Just sat there, as if his presence were enough. 

Leon sat against the tree, letting the setting sunlight cover him. He remembered the epic battle against Cinder, how Trevor wielded that sword with the skill of legends... 

"Cccccceeeeeyyyaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!" Leon screamed into the wind, his voice carried over the mountains. He hunched over and ground his fist into the dirt. Tears blurred his vision. 

"May he go in peace." The reverend finished, crossed himself, and tucked his bible under his arm after closing it. The funeral parties dismissed themselves almost as a collective. Only one remained. 

Trunks, in his black and dark blue cloak, slowly walked up to the coffin. He placed his palm on it. "Well, Trevor, it's been a blast." He gave a small chuckle at his remark, then got serious again. "You should know," he took a deep breath, choking back his sorrow so his voice was fuller, "that you died a hero. You saved us, from ourselves." 

He turned his head behind him; the graveyard was empty. He turned back, and whispered, "You should have led us." 

He put his head down and let his cloak billow in the wind. On the far horizon, a simple silhouette shown. Quite small and thin, thus not being a rock or person. Those that would peer closer would recognize the outline of a soldier's sword. 

"And upon the ascending sun, shown in the Olympus colors, there the soul shall meet. To live with an immortal resolve. "That thou hath not died, but be reborn in thy creator". And let your relic stand erect, at the highest of points. 

-- Trevor Marks, Direct Faction, First Class 

Epilogue 

The rain poured off the signs of Exodus. There was a loud knock on the door, hardly heard in the heavy rain. The door opened silently. There was an authoritative voice calling the time travelers inside. "Jim. Vor'. Come in. The Elite have been expecting you." 

Relieved to get out of the rain, Jim and Vor entered the building, following the armor-clad man that had beckoned them. 


End file.
